I REMEMBER KINDERGARTEN

It occurred to me this morning that I have actual real life memories of being in kindergarten.  My wonderful teacher was an African-American woman named Mrs. White - I remember thinking it was ironic at the time, though I'm sure I wasn't able to put that word to it.  My class was in a trailer, because the student population had outgrown the confines of the building.  My mom dropped me off and picked me up each day.  My little sister, Ellen, was born that year.

I wanted to wear white corduroy overalls that had colorful handprints on them every day.  I don't know that there is even a picture of those, but I remember that my mom limited my wearing of them to once a week, which seemed so restrictive.  I remember there was a boy that I thought was cute named Adam.  He had overalls that he wore a lot, too.  That must have been the connection.

I loved my dear teacher, and she loved me.  She got to come to our house for dinner, and she wrote several letters to my parents about me that they saved.  They are so funny to read now- and they give glimpses into who I already was becoming.  I wanted to know the right answers.  I wanted to have lots of friends.  I wanted to be creative and think of things that no one had.  Some things never change.

I say all of this, because today, I realized all over again that Lily is growing up.  And in many ways, she is different than I thought.  I see one side of her - the "home side," which is precious, creative, and loving, but it has its downsides as well.  Just like all of our "home sides," I guess.

Today was an open house at her Mother's Day Out program.  The teacher has been extremely diligent at helping to prepare the children for kindergarten, and she wanted to show off their hard work to the parents.  It was a fascinating experience to see what other people outside of our family and close friends get to see.

One thing they have done is learn the 23rd Psalm.  Lily's teacher has told me that she can recite it, but never once has she acquiesced when I have asked to hear it at home.  When her teacher asked for volunteers to say it today, in front of a room of adults, Lily's hand shot up, and she was the first to recite the whole thing.  Tears rolled down my cheeks as I listened.  First off - it's such a beautiful Psalm and one that has so much meaning woven throughout.  Secondly - how is this my precious daughter reciting in front of all of these people?  I was shocked.  And so proud.  She knew the whole thing.

I've heard it said that motherhood is like having your heart walking around outside of your body in the form of little people.  Seeing a bit of my heart venturing out today was heart-warming.  She is just so big.  How did it happen?  She's getting to the age when she will remember things - actual things.



Being a mother really is a privilege - one that I do not take for granted.  It is such a blessing to see these amazing little people grow and blossom into themselves.  I love my oldest, and though I am not ready for kindergarten to start - I know she will be.  In case there are things she doesn't remember, she will always be able to look back at this blog and think that I wrote far more than necessary during her childhood.  It is certainly well-documented.  Because she is well-loved.